November 9, 1998 – Monday – 5:30 p.m.

I don’t have much time to write, but I feel like talking to myself, and to God.

I love the weather this time of year. I love the chill the tide brings in. I’m enjoying this place. It has become a home. One like my old one on Foust Road. One like my old one in McAlister Hall and even Tennessee Dorm. One like my bed in Johannesburg, South Africa.

But God’s presence is where I will always be more comfortable.

I’m going over to Kimberly’s house tomorrow to study sign language for our show, and to also have dinner. I pray it’s not too awkward.

I constantly miss Sharon’s home.

The Rebecca St. James concert is less than two weeks away. Thanksgiving break with Allen, Vince, and Tracey is right after that.